2. Holy

CHAPTER 2

Holy

P ulling into the driveway of Carter O'Neill's shortly after giving me a call this morning, I realize he's going to wonder how I got here so quickly. The man is ruthless and a little bit crazy. And given the reason I'm here, I'm sure he'll be on guard, and my signature aloofness won't fool him or anyone else.

The way I've been stalking Della these last few months is borderline psychotic. She's damn near all I think about, and keeping her in my line of sight is the only thing maintaining my sanity. The woman is a mystery I have yet to figure out despite knowing her for years. The problem is that in all those years, I've never spent much time with her, not only because she's been locked up tight, but she's shy, as well. Whenever we're in the same vicinity, she avoids me like the black plague.

With her being on Long Island and me in midtown Manhattan, we don't get a lot of time around each other. Not unless one of Carmine's girls drags her to the city, which hasn't happened often since CJ left for school and Aura went exploring the world.

Getting out of my car, I climb the steps up to Carter's mini-mansion and stab the doorbell. The chime rings throughout the house, and a moment later, the door opens to an intimidating and angry Carter scowling at me with suspicion in his eyes.

"You're here a little too quick, Holy." He opens the door further but remains skeptical.

"I was in the area." It's not a lie; I was. I just won't tell him what for.

"Right." It's clear he doesn't really believe me, but he doesn't have a reason to call me on it or not trust me. "Follow me to my office. I don't want Della hearing us."

Speaking of the girl, I notice her head pop out from her crafting room as we enter the man's office. Her curiosity gets the best of her.

"Well, O'Neill, I'm here. What can I do for you?" Dropping into one of the plush leather chairs in front of his desk, I act casual as he paces in front of the windows behind his desk.

"Della is being watched." Yeah, by me. When he spears me with a look, I roll my hand for him to continue. "Someone has been spying on her for a long fucking time; I just couldn't prove it."

"And now you can?" My head tilts curiously. I know he has no idea about me, but I've never come across anyone else sneaking a glimpse of the girl, either.

His pacing halts as he stares out the window into the backyard. Quiet for a few minutes, Carter sighs as his head drops. The man's frustrations are palpable. "Della is different…she's special." He turns to me, eyes blazing with a fierce protective instinct. "What I tell you doesn't leave this room. No one can know."

I've heard some rumors, so I can guess where this is going, but I don't tell him that. "Wouldn't have anyone to tell, anyway."

"Malice?" he asks and raises a brow.

"Only if it affected the business or Odette." My sister-in-law is the only other woman I've cared about enough to protect the way I would Della.

"It doesn't." I nod and wait. "Della is different. She can feel things."

"Meaning…"

Scrubbing a hand up and down his face, Carter gets a faraway look in his eyes. I don't think I've ever seen him so vulnerable. "She can feel the people around her. Their thoughts and emotions can co-mingle with hers."

Whoa. Not quite what I was expecting. "So she's a telepath?" Isn't that what they're called in the movies?

"Empath, from what I'm told. Has been her entire life. She can read every person in a room before they even know she's there. There's a light inside Della that can make the most jaded of men feel at peace." Fuck. She could know I've been watching her, then.

"And if someone were to get ahold of her, knowing these things, life would not be good for Della?" If what Carter says is true, then her life is more than at risk. She's in for a torturous future. "She have any control over this?"

He shakes his head before I'm done speaking. "Not as far as I've ever seen. When she goes out, she wears noise-canceling headphones to silence the emotions, and gloves so she doesn't touch anyone and expose herself."

"What do you want from me?" Spinning the ring on my finger, a ring Della herself made—she just doesn't know it was me who ordered the signature piece, nor the leather-bound bracelet or the tranquility stone necklace I watched her make on a YouTube tutorial video after she expressed her love of that particular stone.

"She already has a bodyguard, Cowboy, but now, I think she needs a shadow. I need you to find the person who has been following her."

"I can do that," I reply, already devising ways to get eyes on her when she's on the move. "I need to set up my own surveillance around the house. I'll also need access to every place she frequents and when. I need unfettered access to Della, Carter; you understand that?" He reluctantly nods.

"Whatever you need, Holy. Just make my little girl safe." I can see it's eating at him that he isn't able to do it himself, and it makes me wonder why because Carter O'Neill is a ruthless fucking bastard.

"Why aren't you doing this, Carter? I know you have the means to."

Retrieving a folder from his desk, he tosses it to me and waits until I open it to read. "Sean Smith," I mutter. The name is familiar, but I'm unsure why. "No picture?"

"Not since he entered the States after plastic surgery. He's head of the Boston Mob, and he's been trying to take over the drugs on my island for years. Last year, he returned to Ireland for a few months and came back a new man. Since then, nobody has seen what he looks like except for his innermost circle."

"He have a reason to want Della?" Other than the fact she's the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen. She's not a part of this life, never has been, never will be if I have anything to say about it.

"Based off a rumor…. His son is sick, and there hasn't been anything the doctors can do to help for a long time."

A woman like Della…there's no telling what she could do to help.

"Have you thought about moving her?" Getting her out of the line of fire makes the most sense.

"She is isolated enough; I don't want to make her leave the only home she's ever had and go into hiding if I can help it." Yeah, I'd feel the same.

"Is eliminating the son an option?" Carter's eyes darken in acknowledgment.

"It is. However, it will start a feud that puts a bounty on Della's head, and I'd like to avoid that if possible." Nodding my understanding, I continue reading through Sean's file, hoping there's something there I can use for leverage.

A wife, a mistress in Boston, one in Ireland, a dog-fighting ring. Locations are all included. It's his warehouses I want to hit, though. That's his income, and I'll use it to my advantage.

"I'm bringing in Johnny Torrio and Nico Moretti." I've known the men most of my life, and if I know anything about them, it's that they respect the pecking order and won't take kindly to a man using a woman in our circle as leverage in any way.

"They can't know about Della," Carter growls just as there's a knock at the door. "Come in!" A stalky man walks in, and immediately, I recognize him as Della's guard. "What is it, Cowboy?"

There's a pause before Cowboy side-eyes me as I get to my feet. If he's in here, there's only one thing that could be wrong.

Della.

"She's having a panic attack. Locked herself away," he explains while stepping aside.

"What? What the hell triggered it?" Carter shouts as I'm already on my way out the door and up to Della's room.

Turning the knob, the lock stops me, but not for long. A solid kick sends the wood panel flying open and bouncing off the wall as I enter to find the room empty. "The closet!" Carter shouts as he races up behind me.

"Della? It's Holy." I keep my tone low like I'm speaking to a spooked kitten because I get the feeling I am. When I open the closet door, the sight before me makes me question everything I thought I knew about Della O'Neill.